Bitter Work PV Michael Miller Closed

Michael didn't meddle. Okay, so that was a lie. Michael didn't really mean to meddle, he just always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. With the wolve, with the lake, with the fire.

But that was in the past because now he would not meddle, at all. No meddling.

Michael was walking out of the Great Hall when he saw him. It was getting late so he knew he should say something to him, maybe just tap him and say it's getting late? Yeah that would work.

Michael walked over to the boy reading, before stopping a couple yards away from him. Wait, that's meddling.

Michael bite his lip and went to walk away, thinking as he did. This was none of his busniess, the boy was fine. He didn't have to meddle in this. . .

"Hey it's getting late" Michael said as he smiled at the boy, standing in front of him. Okay so Michael had 0 self control. He stepped back so the young boy could get up.

"Whatcha reading about, seems interesting if it's got your attention this much." He said, trying to peek at the cover.

@Nikolai Dragos

Nikolai jumped nearly out of his skin at the sound of a voice in front of him. He fumbled for a solid four seconds with his wand and managed somehow not to drop it. He didn’t, however, manage to keep the yelp from leaving him and a hand flying to his heart.

“Don’t sneak up on me! Jeez!" Nikolai snapped at first. And he winced at his own tone, regaining his manners (albeit slowly). “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… uh...”

The boy standing in front of him is someone he’s never seen, at least more than in passing. Someone he’d certainly never paid attention to, at least. Small and sort of scrawny like him. A Slytherin. Nikolai didn't think he could recall a single Slytherin taking the time to approach him in all his time at Hogwarts so far.

Nikolai closed his mouth, aware suddenly that he’d left it open after his sentence had trailed off. He pulled the borrowed library book closer to him and snapped the front cover shut.

“Nothing,” he said, slightly defensively.

And then, he thought about the interactions he’d had with Nurse Brumby earlier, how frigid he’d been to start out with and how much easier their conversation had gone once he’d relaxed just one iota. Maybe, just maybe, he should try that with someone closer to his own age and just try to make a friend.

(Or at least not alienate everyone who pinged into his orbit.)

“I mean,” Nikolai cut back in before his prickly attitude could push the boy away. “It’s uh… just a book of some spells. I hurt my ankle earlier and um… I was just trying to learn what Nurse Brumby did and how he did it. I guess.” His sentence trailed away, and he was left staring fairly awkwardly up at the boy in front of him.

He was so bad at this.

Michael jumped slightly at the boy's immediate response. Alala, Michael's Kitten, not bothering to look at Michael as she caught up with him, and decided the new boy was good company. The kitten pawed at his robe to get picked up.

Michael swallowed as he watched the boy, "Sorry i didn't mean to, i just . . " The boy's seem to apologize at the same time, making the Slytherin blush slightly. "I should have warned you i was here." He said.

When the boy closed off about what he was reading Michael frowned more. He hadn't meant to intrude. He was starting to think coming up to talk to the boy was not the best idea, maybe one of the worst one. Definitely not the worse, but maybe in the top 10, no. . . the top 20.

When the boy finally talked about what he was reading, Michael nodded along with his words. Michael, too, had started to read up on healing spells, especially when it came to healing burns. "That's cool, do you think you'll become a healer one day?" He asked. He gazed down at the boy's ankle, wanting to ask but refraining. Now probably wasn't the time, since they just met.

@Nikolai Dragos

Nikolai’s dour face brightened, even if just slightly, when he saw the kitten wander up to him. When it brushed up against his wounded ankle, he winced in preparation for the pain—but none came. Relieved, he leaned down and ran his fingers down the kitten’s back, acquiescing to its mewling request.

And, even more relieved, he found that his immediate bitter reactions hadn’t already scared the boy off. Nikolai’s shoulders relaxed, and even that small movement made him appear just that much taller (just that much more approachable).

“I don’t know yet,” Nikolai admitted to the boy’s line of questioning. “I mean, I thought it was amazing, what Nurse Brumby did. And that is was… I dunno, so easy.”

He waffled slightly on his next choice of words; what did one say to continue a conversation into the territory of friendliness? He wasn’t used to the attention (not that he didn’t appreciate it—far from it), wasn’t used to casual questions or the absence of outward hostility. It settled warmly in his bones. He even tried on a little smile.

“I’m not great with spells yet,” he admitted with a little shrug. “And I thought—” Nikolai caught himself in a tiny, self-deprecating laugh. “I thought I’d look stupid trying to follow Nurse Brumby around and figure out how he did it on my own.”

Nikolai took a breath, looked up from the kitten, and realized that this was probably the time that he should bloody introduce himself. He flushed pink up to his ears, realizing just how bad he was at trying to make friends.

“My name’s Nikolai. Um. Niko, if you want.”

Alala was always a very playful kitten, almost dangerously so. So as the kitten, barely a full pound of fluff, tried to jump into the boy's lap, it not so shockingly ended up clinging to the boys pants leg, as it tried to stay up. Michael's hand deemed helpful for the tiny feline as he picked the kitten up, holding it in his hands. At first it struggled to get on of the boy's hold, determined to sit with the other boy, only to calm down as it's neck was scratched with the boys trimmed nails, purring sounding.

The werewolf looked back at Niko, as he talked, nodding every now and then to show he was listening. Well the boy seemed to have a very intelligent thought about the topic, plus he had thought it out. Michael liked that. He liked him, as a friend of course.

"I'm Michael, Michael Miller." He smiled, smiling at him. The boy was . . . well like him. A match of fragile bones and freckled skin, no doubt both littered with scares and stories. The boy had blonde hair like his own, though his was darker, whilst Michael's color looked almost fake in the fading light. Where they were different, was the eyes. Michael had sharp blue eyes, while the other boy had brown eyes that reminded him of melting milk chocolate, sending a pang of hunger through the boy. How close to dinner were they?

It seemed to be a split second decision, as Michael blurted. "Want to go to the ball with me?" But in all sense, Michael had thought it through. The boy seemed kind. Why not take him?

Nikolai was sad to see the kitten get swept up, quite enjoying its company, but realized that perhaps its owner didn’t want it getting too attached to strangers. Strangers from another House, nonetheless, who would probably never see each other again aside from in passing.

It was kind of a shame, Nikolai thought. To be so separated from so many of his peers practically arbitrarily. Then again, as he’d proven time and time again, he was barely able to make friends even within his own House (and the Hufflepuffs had certainly lived up to their reputation, even the most timid and awkward among them accepting of his own reticence). Whatever insight the Sorting Hat possessed, it certainly seemed to put him in the right place to start growing his own branches and blooming.

Michael, the boy said at last. A name for the face (practically a pale and freckled mirror, in some ways; all but the brilliant blue eyes). Nikolai smiled slowly in what he hoped was a friendly gesture. It would be nice, when passing now and then in the halls, to be able to give a wave to someone he’d met once.

And then he blinked, not sure that he’d heard the question correctly.

The Blossom Ball? The one he’d heard so much about (the good and the apprehensive) and had been dreading for weeks?

Wait, Michael wanted to take him to the ball? Social pariah Nikolai Dragos? Weird and bitter Nikolai Dragos? Someone actually wanted to actively spend time with him? In a public setting?

Nikolai’s entire face turned a cherry red, all the way to his ears.

“Me?” was all Nikolai could manage at first, flabbergasted. He blinked again, as if waiting to see if Michael’s kind face would buckle into laughter and tell him it was all a prank. “You don’t care that… that you don’t know anything about me?” And then, like the idea had struck him across the face, Nikolai’s expression buckled into trepidation. “I can’t dance.”

Michael didn't really think before he did most things, which probably caused most of his problems at that moment, but still he wasn't backing down from this one.

"Yeah you" he said, giggling slightly as he watched the boy freak out. He listened to him, before inputting. "I could lead then. I know how to dance." He said. He smiled as he put his cat down, it moving to sit in the other boys lap, purring happily. "c'mon it will be fun." He said.

He hoped the boy would go, not only because he wanted a date but he didn't want to go alone when he knew his other dorm mates had dates. It would be horrible to see Percival dating with someone as he sits there waiting for the dance to be over.

And Niko seemed nice. So why not take this boy, one he had just met, to the ball? It wasn't like they were going on a date or something, just one little ball.

Michael smiled, "So whatcha think? Come to the ball with me, and if you don't like it, you can make me do anything you want. Have a club thing or need someone to get books for you? I'll do it no questions asked." Telling the boy he had a favor with him if he didn't like the ball was probably the wrong thing to do, but Michael knew he was probably his last choice for a ball mate.

@Nikolai Dragos